(no subject)

[itrhymes]

[From behind you: a stifled sneeze.]

Comments

[brynnhilda]

Gesundheit.

[cleverlittleq]

[Malcolm shifts a bit, turning toward the man standing behind him in the lift.] Bless you.

[aphotic_auror]

Maria jumps a little at the sound, and whirls around, ready to draw her wand upon this "threat"-- that turns out to be naught but a man sneezing. "Oh, sorry.... Bless you, sir... Do you-- need a handkerchief?" Grimacing, she made ready to conjure one inside her pocket, without drawing her wand, of course; there were Muggles here, including the man she was offering a damned handkerchief to in the first place.

[onthe_threshold]

Bless you.

[prettyawkward]

Oi, watch it!

[itrhymes]

[Any attempt at pretending it wasn't him is clearly a no-go, standing this close together in line.] Danke.

[itrhymes]

[Of all the symptoms, the sneezing is perhaps the most annoying. It grabs all the wrong sorts of attention. But he can at least humor the polite small talk that his own cold has brought on.] Thank you.

[And, because Hannibal can never quite resist playing along when religion is brought up:] You as well.

[itrhymes]

[There's colds that you go to the store with regardless, and then there's the 'quarantined by the CDC'-level flus. This is unfortunately the latter, because Hannibal is not a man who's easily convinced to worry about other peoples' health when choosing his actions. He at least looks very unconcerned with his condition, pallor and sneezing be damned.] Thank you. [Is said absent-mindedly.]

[brynnhilda]

Are you sick, or it is just allergies? [She's already got her hand sanitizer out, not that it does any good]

[itrhymes]

[There is a very small moment where Hannibal doesn't realize it's him being addressed. Once it becomes clear he's the only one apparently bothering the teenager in front of him, however, his entire face falls into a series of flat, unimpressed lines.

Any intimidation factor might be negated by the reddened nose, unfortunately. Hannibal looks over with a sigh, familiarizing himself with his features - the better to recognize him later - and pointedly says nothing.]

of course

[dominus]

[ As automatic as his next breath: ]

Salute. My apologies for the dust, it's been a while since I last came down here...ah. [ Ezio peers at the racks of wine, searching until he finds a cork capped with a familiar seal. The bottle's old label is yellowing, its edges curling away from the glass. He wipes away the worst of the dust before handing it down to Hannibal. ]

As promised, one Domaine de la Romanée-Conti burgundy. [ A wine that would have easily cost him somewhere around ten grand, if he'd had to pay for it. Its twin peeks from a spot above, awaiting some other special occasion. ]

!!!

[itrhymes]

[Perhaps it's fitting that his allergy-free existence is only marred by a sensitivity to dust, given how painfully expensive and clean his tastes run. Symbolic Achilles's heel or not, Hannibal is unamused and doing his level best to ignore it. He only nods to the apology, muting another sneeze against his cuff while Ezio reaches for the wine.

And please don't think that he's tearing up with emotion at all of the money Ezio is saving him right now. It's - literally - just that something's in his eye.] Molte grazie. Should I also be thanking one of your employers, or one of your jobs, for this selection?

[Which is as far as he gets before another delicate sneeze. Hannibal is clearly intent on not actually addressing this problem, nor does he seem in a hurry to leave the basement, because sometimes pride is just a very stupid thing.]

[itrhymes]

[Hannibal's never had much patience for the texture sanitizer leaves on his hands, which is why he doesn't follow suit. The tissue he muffled himself with surely did its job.] Just a cold. [Which is a lie, but also more socially acceptable than admitting he seems to be coming down with the flu. He seems unbothered by the symptoms, but he also looks a little pale at the edges, underneath the expensive clothes.]

[brynnhilda]

[Brynn is suspicious, but the guy doesn't look like he's about to drop dead, so he could be telling the truth]

Get well soon, I'll be keeping my distance... Of several inches, because this line is so crowded.

[dominus]

[ Coming off the step stool, he's perfectly thoughtful, recalling the wine's source and giving his friend a cheery pat on the shoulder. ] Your accent is rusty, amico mio. And it would be neither, yet both.

[ That...will require some explanation. Ezio leans over to take another bottle from a different shelf, a younger vintage with a more approachable price tag for supper tonight. Pinot blanc with the veal piccata? Hmm... ]

An old friend needed my help when his wife was taken, only a couple of years ago. [ His expression clouds, a distance in his tone soon swept away with the roll of one shoulder. Time to get out of this dusty cellar, he offers in a brief gesture. ] Her kidnapper had an impressive wine collection.

[prettyawkward]

[Rabastan wipes at the nonexistant cloud that he imagines has fallen all over him, spreading Muggle germs over his clothing, even though the sneeze had been covered.

Then he gets a good look at the man. He'd be remarkably similar in features to Rabastan's father, if he were bald. The parallels are mostly in demeanour and size. Rabastan has to look up to him, at least.]

You...you can't just go about sneezing on people.

[red_peril]

"Bood' zdorov," the tall Russian agent said automatically. His eyes flicking to the the shiny metal of the elevator's button panel at the man who stood behind him.

[silentlambs]

[Quietly fishes out a kleenex from inside her purse, pleased that she always remembers to bring extra, and holds it out for him.]

God bless you.